


Women Who Aren’t Nice and The Men Who Love Them

by tielan



Series: Meeting Halfway [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 30 days challenge, Angsty Schmoop, Drinking & Talking, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're not nice women, you know," Peggy said. "I know, you thought I was when we met. But nice women didn’t go into military intelligence back then, Steve."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Women Who Aren’t Nice and The Men Who Love Them

**Author's Note:**

> 30 Days of OTP Challenge - Day 9: 'hanging out with friends'.
> 
> This was so much trouble to work out! First it was Peggy. Then it was the Avengers. Then Thorpe turned up and started causing trouble. So now we have this kind of hybrid of the three scenarios that hopefully says all the bits I wanted it to say...

It doesn’t occur to Steve that Maria might be back in the country until he glimpses the familiar line of neck, shoulder, and back at the table of SHIELD agents that’s staked out a space in the back corner of the bar. She’s been in Europe for nearly a month on a mission that required near-absolute radio silence, and while he read the reports, he hasn’t spoken to her or seen her in all that time.

The sight of her nearly makes him forget himself – and only Clint’s hand on his shoulder and the query of what he wants to drink stops him from making a beeline for her.

When they head for the table, Natasha is already in conversation with the others – the familiar faces of Jasper Sitwell, Sharon Carter, Jerry Stone, and Maria, and one unfamiliar one.

“Alan Thorpe,” says the newcomer. “A pleasure to meet you, Captain.”

“Steve, please.”

The other man smiles briefly but doesn’t engage him in conversation, and although Maria flashes him a brief smile, it’s not the greeting Steve wants from her. He knows it won’t be until they’re private; that doesn’t stop him from wanting it now.

He ends up parked between Natasha and Clint on the couch, the two of them hemming him in either side. At first Steve doesn’t quite understand why Clint insisted Steve sit in the middle. Five minutes later, he’s grateful for their flanking presence.

Steve knows better than to try a display of possessiveness with Maria, let alone in a group of SHIELD agents, most of whom don’t know that he and Maria are seeing each other.

But Alan Thorpe is behaving entirely too familiarly with Maria; an arm casually slung around her shoulder, stealing food off her plate, making casual references to a things that make only Maria smile while the other agents roll their eyes and shrug. It’s safe to presume that Maria and Alan have what everyone these days euphemistically calls ‘a history’.

And yes, Steve is jealous. He’s jealous that the other man can be familiar and friendly with her and not one of the agents sitting there has so much as lifted an eyebrow, while if he can’t even buy her a drink without having to be paid back.

He nearly said something when Maria handed him the money to get her a drink, as though she’d never allow herself to be in debt to him; only Natasha’s slight shake of the head warned him not to make a fuss.

When he comes back, Thorpe is entertaining the group with a story. “And so there I am, buck naked with one weapon that’s just about out of ammo, and cornered by four of Soder’s men, thinking that Fury’s going to either blow his top or piss himself laughing when he retrieves the video – possibly both – and just as I’m resigned to a gory death in all my naked glory, the doorbell rings, polite as peas, and this voice rumbles through like a fucking freight train. ‘Room service!’”

Maria nearly chokes on her drink. “Ashkenazy?”

“Huron Ashkenazy,” Thorpe confirms. “And that ninja he keeps on a leash. She went through those men like butter. Romanoff, I’d have taken notes but I was too busy trying to find a towel so I could face one of Europe’s most notorious political brokers with a semblance of modesty.”

“Instead of cowering in the corner, waiting to be rescued?” Clint asks with a smirking glitter.

Thorpe grins. “There are rescues, and then there are _rescues_. And when a dangerous woman decides you need protecting from the big bad – or, in this case, the many little bad - I’m not going to argue ego. Maria, Ashkenazy says you’re even now.”

Maria’s brows have gone up. “I’d written that debt off years ago.”

“Well, it seems he thinks he’s levelled it,” Thorpe tucks a wisp of hair behind Maria’s ear, and Steve tenses, and feels the pressure of Natasha’s elbow against his side increase gently, and forces himself to relax. “And I quote – ‘ _She saved my balls once, so I am saving hers. Miserable as they may be_.’ I’m kind of offended.”

“You don’t get to call offence,” Maria retorts, tilting her head away from Thorpe’s casual touch. “I get to be offended that he’d think I’d need you to be my balls.”

“He also made you a job offer. ‘ _Tell her_ ,’” Thorpe growls, ruthlessly imitating Ashkenazy, “‘ _when she tires of making lapdogs of the agents of SHIELD, I am more than willing to be hers._ ’ I thought you weren’t into collars, Maria.”

Steve catches his breath as Maria gives Thorpe a lazy, glittering grin – the kind of smile Steve’s more used to seeing in the privacy of his bed – or hers. “I thought _you_ weren’t into collars, Alan.”

“TMI,” says Clint, waving a hand. “Things we don’t need to know.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Sharon Carter, hooking her fall of blonde hair behind her ear and suddenly looking startlingly like Peggy in spite of the colour of her hair. “When you’re a handler, being into collars is more or less imperative.”

Jasper Sitwell snorts, sprawled long and limber across the coffee table from Steve. “Don’t give away all our secrets, Sharon. There are children and pets present.”

“Arf,” says Natasha with a cool smile. “Some of us like collars.”

Clint reaches across Steve to clink his beer against Natasha’s glass. “Damn straight. So you got your pretty hide out in one piece, Thorpe. Pity. I was hoping to see you hung like a rug.”

“Maybe next time I’m in Europe.” Thorpe waves a hand casually, taking himself in top to toe. “In the meantime, I think I’ll see if Fury has any fires he needs put out, maybe stay stateside for a while.”

The sideways look he gives Maria makes Steve’s blood boil, and Natasha’s elbow is pressing against his side again. He forces himself to be calm, to not react, and wonders how SHIELD agents live like this – hiding everything beneath layers and layers, concealing feelings, playing politics with every breath, every thought, every word, every action.

It makes Steve wonder just how much of Maria Hill he really knows. And how much of it is just another persona she puts on and takes off at will. If she’s the collar SHIELD has assigned to keep him in line – by the throat or by the balls.

Dear God, he’s getting cynical.

“Captain Rogers.” Thorpe is standing up and stretching, lean and limber with the grace of a cat. “It’s my round and I’m nominating you to help me carry the drinks back.”

It’s Clint who gives him the nudge, and Steve goes with rather less grace than he should show. And is less than impressed when Thorpe changes direction halfway to the bar and heads for one of the doors leading out, clearly expecting Steve to follow.

Steve does. He’s not sure why he does – he has this wild idea of telling Thorpe to back away from Maria, but he’s pretty sure this would fall under ‘unacceptable displays of territoriality’ of the kind which Clint’s warned him against. The part of him that’s learning how to think like a SHIELD agent suggests that maybe he should get to know this man a little better. At the least, he’s part of Maria’s past, like it or not; at worst, he’s a potential rival.

Outside, in the warm summer night, Thorpe pulls a small silver box from his breast pocket and flips open the lid. “Cigarette?”

“No.”

“I thought nearly everyone smoked back in your day.”

“Nearly everyone,” Steve says. “I didn’t.”

“Probably just as well,” Thorpe says as he lights up. “Maria always said it was like kissing an ashtray.”

Steve tells himself to breathe evenly. It’s one thing to know that Maria’s had other men before, it’s another to feel it so viscerally in his gut. The jealousy is so strong it takes him a moment to realise Thorpe is watching him. He scrapes his thoughts together.

“Did she tell you?”

“She didn’t need to. You were broadcasting it from the moment you joined the group tonight. I’m assuming the others haven’t been told or noticed yet. Except for Barton and Romanoff, of course.”

“But you noticed because you and Maria have history?”

“Ancient history. I was hoping to make it modern, but I somehow doubt I measure up to a hero.”

It takes Steve a moment to quite understand what Thorpe’s saying, but the note of bitterness needs no interpretation. He doesn’t want to feel a spurt of compassion for the other man, but he does. “I’ll look after her.”

Thorpe takes a drag on the cigarette. “And that’s what worries me. Maria doesn’t need a keeper, Rogers. She needs someone to watch her back – a partner, not a protector.”

“And you think you’d be better at that?”

“I know SHIELD and I know Maria. And, just for the record, I’ll watch Maria’s back, whether or not we’re together – bros before hos.” A brief, saturnine smile rests on Thorpe’s face. “But I’m giving you this warning for free – I’m less worried about you breaking her heart and more worried about you hamstringing her ambitions.”

 _We’re not nice women, you know,_ Peggy said during a recent visit when she edged the topic around to Steve’s relationship with Maria. If Steve felt awkward discussing Maria with Peggy, Peggy certainly didn’t seem to hold the same reluctance. _I know, you thought I was when we met. But nice women didn’t go into military intelligence back then, Steve._

_You were respectable._

_Enough for the US Army, at any rate,_ came the response. _But I got to where I was in the SSR because I refused to be ‘nice’ and let the men do the thinking for me – and because Dr. Erskine had a gift for seeing past people’s appearances._ Her smile was warm, including Steve in that memory of the man who’d given him the chance he’d wanted so badly – the chance to be something worthwhile. _Maria is who she is, Steve, and she’s climbed higher in ten years than I ever managed in my time in the SSR or SHIELD. She didn’t do that by holding to the template that society thinks women should be._

_Why are you telling me this?_

_Because sometimes I wonder if I’d have been everything I was if we’d had that dance – that chance at ‘us’,_ Peggy said, gently. _You’re the sweetest man in the world, Steve – you still are. But I think I’d have been constrained by your expectations of me – by society’s expectations, and I probably would have given in – eventually. Maria’s a different generation entirely; she’ll make her own way with or without your approval._

_But it’ll be easier on me if I don’t stand in her way?_

_It’ll be easier on both of you._

Steve wasn’t sure he entirely understood Peggy then. Now, standing outside in the bar in the warm New York night with Agent Thorpe watching him through the wreaths of cigarette smoke, he thinks he understands only too well.

Natasha put it most bluntly. _Maria has a lot to lose if thing go bad between you. Her career, the respect of her peers, and public opinion. SHIELD is not a woman’s world._

“I would never intentionally do anything to hurt Maria,” he tells Thorpe. “I know that’s not enough for you—I suspect nothing would be. But it’s all I have.”

Thorpe sucks down the rest of his cigarette, and grinds the stub out in the little box of sand. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me,” he says, and the very quietness of his voice is sharp as a warning as he lifts his eyes to Steve. “You have to prove it to Maria.”

And he goes inside leaving Steve to stand out in the night and wonder if relationships have always been this complicated.

-oOo-

Hours later, Steve watches Maria as she stirs – or tries to – sprawled naked and sated in his sheets.

“I think you broke me,” she mumbles.

“Sorry.” He kisses her shoulder in apology. He _was_ a little intense during their lovemaking, caught between absence and jealousy, and wanting her focused entirely on him, on them.

“I’m not complaining, exactly.”

Steve smiles as he kisses her shoulder. “Don’t go away so long next time.”

He’s joking, but he feels her tense before she relaxes. Still, her response has bite. “Anything to keep Captain America happy.”

“Hey,” he rolls over so she’s pinned under him, so she can’t avoid his gaze. “I’m not—I didn’t mean you should—” He doesn’t know how to say it, doesn’t know how to reassure her. “I missed you. That’s all.”

Maria looks up at him, sleepy but sober, her eyes searching his face. One hand comes up and she skims his cheekbone with her thumb. “Are you sure?”

 _Maria doesn’t need a keeper,_ Thorpe reminds him. _She’ll make her own way, with or without your approval,_ Peggy murmurs in his head.

Steve turns his head and kisses her palm. “I’m sure.”

This is what he has, and if it’s not precisely what he’d like, he’ll live with it.

The alternative would be to do without her entirely.


End file.
